


Replaced

by Chrystie



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 02:38:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6138495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chrystie/pseuds/Chrystie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Why have I seen you on more than this one occasion? I don't think that's very customary with your job.”</p><p>A look of remorse crossed the man's eyes but the smile on his lips didn't fade. “For the same reason my predecessor saw me on more than just one occasion.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Replaced

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kate882](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kate882/gifts).



> HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY!!!  
> Apparently I just needed midterms to motivate me to write <3

The first time Kuroko met Akashi Seijuro, Kuroko was only a six-year-old child, crouched down in front of a popsicle stick sticking out of the ground with tears in his eyes. The blindingly beautiful man that was Akashi Seijuro seemed to have approached him from out of nowhere, towering over him in an immaculate, crisp black suit that contrasted with his bright red hair and silk white gloves.

The man kneeled down to be eye level with him, offering him a sad smile and a black handkerchief to dry his tears. “What’s wrong?” he asked in a tone that Kuroko couldn’t help but think implied that he already knew what was wrong.

More tears fell as he remembered why he was knelt down on the dirt with a broken heart. “M-Miki—my Miki’s gone,” Kuroko mumbled into the handkerchief as he tried to wipe away the tears, pointing at the lone popsicle stick in front of him.

Through his tears, Kuroko could see the man tilt his head slightly. “Miki?”

“Miki w-was my bunny rabbit,” Kuroko sniffled, roughly wiping his nose with the handkerchief.

The man reached out to him, looking as though he wanted to pat his head to comfort him but also looked hesitant to touch him and faltered. The man offered him a sad smile instead. “I'm sure Miki is happy where she is now.”

Kuroko knew the man was just trying to help, but his words only caused more tears to flow from his eyes.

The man had a brief look of panic in his eyes from what Kuroko could see through his tears. The man was clearly not very accustomed to dealing with children. Kuroko felt a gloved hand smooth over the top of his head, awkwardly patting him as if to say _please don't cry_.

Kuroko knew he shouldn't have—his mother had instructed him many times to not speak to strangers—but this stranger was trying to help him and for some odd reason, Kuroko felt as though he could trust him. Kuroko all but jumped into the man’s arms, burying his face into his chest.

He wept onto the man’s immaculate black suit, smearing tears and snot all over it, likely ruining it, yet the man didn't push him away. Instead, he hesitantly wrapped his arms around Kuroko’s small frame and awkwardly petted his hair. Kuroko was sure that somewhere amidst his sobs and the man’s awkwardly spoken words of comfort, he heard the man whisper, “Sorry.”

Why the man felt sorry, Kuroko at the time wasn’t sure but it really didn’t matter to him because the man, despite his lack of knowledge with how to handle children, made him feel a little better as he mourned the loss of his bunny rabbit.

* * *

 

The second time Kuroko met Akashi Seijuro, twelve years had gone by, yet it felt very reminiscent of their first meeting.

Kuroko had been waiting a majority of the day for all his family members to disperse and head back to their proper homes to continue their mourning. Once the last person, his mother, had left —only after he had given her multiple reassurances that he would be home before it got dark—Kuroko finally let the tears he had been holding in roll down his face.

Even if they were his family, Kuroko preferred not to cry in front of others. So throughout the ceremony he’d kept a strong facade, but now that he was alone with only his grandmother’s tombstone as his company, Kuroko openly wept a day’s worth of tears.

“Were you close to her?” came a sudden voice beside him. Kuroko tensed; he wasn’t very used to people sneaking up on him, as usually it was the other way around. Stiffly turning towards the voice, Kuroko was greeted by the familiar sight of a man with bright red hair wearing a crisp black suit and white silk gloves.

The man didn't look as though he had aged a day since their first meeting, though Kuroko supposed he wasn't really surprised. Even as a child he could feel that there was something distinctly… not normal about this man. Kuroko, on the other hand, had grown tremendously since their last meeting. Where as before he had only reached the man's thighs in height, now he reached his neck.

“I was,” Kuroko finally answered after a moment of staring at the man. He pulled out a familiar black handkerchief from his chest pocket, one that he only ever brought with him during days he felt particularly down, and wiped away the tears on his face.

The man looked up to the sky, his eyes holding the same sadness and guilt as their first meeting. “I'm sure she regrets leaving you,” he said with a tone that implied that it was fact rather than just an odd attempt at comforting Kuroko.

A moment of silence passed, the words lingering in the air for Kuroko to take in and absorb and he felt tears well up in his eyes again. “And I’ll dearly miss her.” Kuroko had tried to keep his voice steady but it was hard to control the inevitable crack that accompanied the tears that streamed down his face. He quickly tried to wipe away the tears—he didn’t need a stranger to witness his breakdown.

He felt a hand place itself on top of his head. Kuroko sniffed and looked up from his grandmother’s grave. The man looked just as awkward and hesitant to touch him as the first time and it spread a certain comfort through him, the same comfort he felt twelve years ago when he was mourning the loss of a bunny.

Kuroko felt his tears increase and let out a small whimper as he, once again, cried into this man’s immaculate suit. Kuroko felt the silk of the man's gloves ghost over his nape before lightly pressing him into his shoulder. Kuroko could only cry harder as the man awkwardly tried to offer him comfort.

Amidst his sobs, Kuroko was sure he'd heard the man whisper a quiet “I’m sorry, Tetsuya” and it was odd because Kuroko could neither remember ever blaming the man for anything nor ever giving him his name.

* * *

 

The third time Kuroko Tetsuya met Akashi Seijuro, he had just turned twenty-five—which, considering the circumstances of the meeting, was much younger than Kuroko had really expected he’d be.

Through the years he'd had enough time to stew over his meetings with the odd man—namely, the fact that said meetings only happened when he needed a specific kind of comfort. The conclusion he came to was… odd, to say the least, but the more he thought about it, the more it seemed probable.

This was why it came as no surprise to him when, as Kuroko stepped away from the crowd that surrounded his now-lifeless body, he saw the man just a little ways down the street approaching him with a regretful smile yet with a warm look in his eyes. They met halfway, Kuroko proud to note that he was now only a few mere centimeters shorter than the man.

“Hello,” Kuroko greeted. “I can't really say it's a pleasure to see you again but I'm sure you understand.”

The man smiled wryly as he cast a glance at Kuroko's body and the stopped bus in the middle of the road. “No, I can't say this is the most ideal way to meet either, but I have been anticipating this meeting for quite a long time now.”

“I’m sure you have,” Kuroko could only imagine what it had been like, staring at a little boy crying in the mud, with the knowledge that that little boy was to die in nineteen years. “Before we leave, I’d like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind.” Kuroko actually had many questions, all built up over the years he’d pondered the nature of the man’s existence, trying to convince himself that he wasn't crazy. It was only for the sake of this man’s time that Kuroko decided to narrow his curiosity down to two questions.

The man simply looked at him with a patient smile as if he had been expecting Kuroko to ask for answers.

Kuroko took the look and his silence as a go-ahead. “Why have I seen you on more than this one occasion? I don't think that's very customary with your job.”

A look of remorse crossed the man's eyes but the smile on his lips didn't fade. “For the same reason my predecessor saw me on more than just one occasion.”

A new flurry of questions ran through Kuroko's mind. _Why did the man need to be replaced? Why was Kuroko the one chosen to replace him? What if Kuroko couldn't do it?_ In the end, Kuroko, so as not to pester the man, settled to only ask one. “What's your name?” Because surely, like Kuroko, the man had to have a name.

The man looked surprised by that question, but only slightly before his expression turned back to an unreadable smile, and Kuroko felt a little proud to have been able to do something that the man hadn't predicted. “For a time,” the man started, his eyes seemingly glazing over with what Kuroko believed was reminiscence, “I was called Akashi Seijuro.”

Kuroko couldn't help but think the name suited him. It was a lovely name that spoke of overwhelming strength, everything that Kuroko thought Akashi to be. It was a shame he no longer used it.

“Well then,” Akashi sighed, “Are you ready to leave? I only have a few hundred years to train you.” He held out a pale, ungloved hand, offering Kuroko a choice that wasn't really a choice at all.

Kuroko wasn't surprised to find Akashi's hand was bone cold yet only a few degrees colder than Kuroko's own nonexistent warmth. “Then I look forward to these next few hundred years together.”

Kuroko let Akashi, a man he had only ever met on three occasions yet would end up as the man he would know for a longer amount of time than he could ever imagine, lead him away from the only world he had ever known.


End file.
